


Into the Shadow

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-18
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-05 03:45:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1804093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is a demon on the warpath, Sam is stuck on Earth and Cas is rebuilding Heaven. Monster attacks have all but stopped, and Heaven and Hell are on the brink of war; Cas and Dean on opposing sides with Sam stuck in the middle. When the three meet again for the first time since Dean's death, it starts a chain of events that forces one of them to pay the ultimate price- and there is no going back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Week After Dean

**Author's Note:**

> AU; the past 9 seasons are exactly the same, but from this point forward it's AU. 
> 
> In case of confusion Shadow=demonic Dean (the title's so artsy I know). And there's one section for each main character (Cas, Dean, & Sam) per chapter. Each section is separated so it's less confusing. This chapter starts a week after Dean's apparent death.

Rip.  
Tear.  
Kill.

The entire world was black. The night, the endless night beat into his mind. Nothing was real but the feel of the blade, the power coursing through his veins, the whispers of his king in his mind, and the desire to kill. That need, that endless need to kill, to stay sane, was the only drive in his life. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else was needed. And so, nothing else was remembered.  
 If someone had gone to this demon Hell called Shadow, and asked him who he was before, he would simply shake his head. Silent as the night he hunted in, the demon would flash the black eyes he was proud of, hold the bone he called the First Blade in his hand, and shake his head before running off to make his next kill, driven by his endless thirst for blood.

But… there were rumors. Rumors that Shadow sometimes failed. That the last Knight of Hell would, rarely, fall under in his never ending quest of terror. That he'd remember his life before the Mark, before the blade. That he'd remember his life as a human. That in his mind he'd hear a rustle like wings, or the roar of an engine. That hot flames would curl against the body of a blond woman. That deep blue eyes would bore into his skull. That he'd remember a word: Dean. And whenever he remembered, he'd be incapacitated, and his current conquest, if there was one, could escape.

But of course, they were only rumors.

Shadow smiled in the endless night as he crept towards his newest destination, a house in the middle of nowhere. Inside he could see the body of a man, a deep red in the black outline. His heart pounded with the excitement of the chase, like it always did when he found a new target. "Kill him! Feel his blood run down your hands, demon!" The voice of his king rang in his mind. So Crowley was watching his hunt. Good. He'd make his lord and master proud.

Shadow closed his eyes and breathed in the dark air. He was always calmer when a kill was near, looking forward to the rush of power it gave him. When he opened his eyes again, he was standing next to the house. "Good, demon. Now paint the room in red." Shadow smiled again. He would do just that.  
 The floorboards creaked. Shadow decided to walk rather than appear before his target, wanting to feel the thrill of the chase and capture. It had not been too long since his last kill, the anticipation had not yet become desperation so he could take his time. Shadow walked up the steps slowly, gripping the First Blade tightly in his hand. The door opened slowly, reveling the man lying asleep in bed. Shadow closed his eyes again and breathed deep, his hand slowing beginning to shake from power. When he opened his eyes again they were all black. His mind buzzed and heart pounded as he rose the blade above the man's chest. The man woke abruptly, his final scream barely making out of his mouth before the blade reached him.

Shadow relished in the kill, and the look of fear on his target's face. A rush of power flooded his body, and a feeling he couldn’t describe as anything but incredible. Again and again he brought the blade down on the man, relishing in the buzz it gave him, until the body was so torn it could give him no buzz. 

"Good, demon. Quick, agile, and silent. Couldn't've done better myself." The king of Hell appeared before his kill with a wicked smile on his face. Shadow knelt on instinct, the blade in front of him and his head to his hand, not wanting to disrespect the king by meeting his gaze. "You know, I thought without all the time in Hell you wouldn't be as deadly as the other knights, but you've surprised me. I had planned on making you a crossroads demon, but that would be a blatant waste of your incredible talents, demon. Keep doing what your doing, and I'll be back soon with work for you. Just don't. Get. Caught. If a hunter finds you..." His voice trailed off. With that, the king left.

Hunter. That word was familiar. Shadow doubled over, an incredible pain set his forehead on fire. The fire of a gun. The cry of a man… no, two men. A tall man with long hair, and an older one wearing… wearing a hat. And… a woman, a blond woman, that was talking about an apartment… Shadow kicked at the wall behind and forced the images back. No life before the blade. Make the king proud. Kill and feel the power of the blade. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else existed.

 

 

"You got a crush on me or something?" Sam looked up from his whiskey, at the bartender whose face was a little more than two feet from his. She wasn't bad looking, pixie cut black hair against chocolate skin with what Sam guessed were golden contacts making her eyes a deep bronze color. She was wearing a black tank top with the words "Jersey Boys" on it, and dark jeans artfully ripped near the top, with what Sam assumed were paint splatters along the edges. "What makes you say that, Abigail?" Sam read the bartender's name tag.

She gave him a sideways glance. "Well, you've been in here every night this week, and this isn't the first time I've caught you staring at me. So, what gives?" Shit. Sam had been zoning out again, thinking about that time Dean had put green hair dye in his shampoo, making him look like the Loch Ness Monster for a month. He missed his brother so badly it hurt, the booze and rare moments of sleep a paper barrier protecting him from an oncoming train. He'd been itching for a hunt, even a simple poltergeist to distract him from this incredible hole in his stomach. Every day since he'd checked into the motel, he'd come to the bar, inhaled drink after drink, his bleary eyes staring at his laptop for any kind of news that might indicate paranormal activity. But nothing had happened, it hadn't been this quiet since before the apocalypse.

"Hello? Space cadet? You there?" Abigail waved her hand in front of Sam's face. Sam must’ve been really drunk, because it took him that long to process her British accent. "Sorry," he managed. "Spaced out. I tend to stare and random things when I do that… I didn't mean for it to be, well, you..."

"Yea, I got that. And it's fine." She leaned forward on the bar, her eyes doing a quick sweep to make sure that the five other customers here this early were set with their drinks. "So, what's up, um, person?"

"Sam." He managed to give her a lightning fast smile, the muscles stiff from neglect. He lowered the screen of his laptop to look at her, a mixture of concern and curiosity dancing in her eyes. He debated lying to her or just walking away, but for some reason telling this complete stranger about his problems seemed like a good idea. Maybe it was just the alcohol, but he needed to tell someone something unless he wanted to explode.

"I just… it's my brother, Dean, his name’s Dean. He, well, he, uh, got in an… accident, and, well, I'm not good with coping with stuff like this. Then there's my friend, Cas. He was really close to my brother too, and I figured he'd be here, but he's not answering any of my calls, and he was in some deep water recently, so I don't know what's going on, and I just…" he gave a half-hearted laugh and looked down at his laptop. "God. I'm rambling, aren't I?"

Abigail looked down at the bar and reached over to put her hand on Sam's, in a comforting sort of way. She gave him a small smile, and said, "I get it. Not to make this sound all support groupy, but I lost my mom two years ago. I wasn't good at dealing with that, either. I felt alone, and my brother ditching my calls didn’t help. But trust me, it gets better with time. And," she looked at the half-empty whisky next to Sam's laptop. "destroying your liver doesn't do much good, either. Trust me."  
 Sam reached into his pocket and pulled a $20 out and put it on the bar. Abigail shook her head and gave it back to him. "I'm not taking your money. But here," she took Sam's phone from off the bar, and typed some numbers into it. When he got it back, the screen said "Contact Saved". "If you need anything, I'm here to help." Sam looked at his phone, a phone number displayed under the name Abigail Lewis. 

No one had wanted to help Sam this much when knowing him so little since when he met Meg a decade ago. "Christo" Sam muttered under his breath, and looked at the bartender. No reaction. Sam cleared his throat and muttered a thank you and goodbye before leaving the bar.

When he got into the Impala, he drove about two miles until he realized he was too drunk to drive a car. At that point, it was just him on an empty road, on the passenger's side a small cliff that opened up to either a lake or sea. It was beautiful, too beautiful for a time so soon after Dean's death and Castiel's imprisonment. He had no idea whether the gates of Heaven would be open by now, or if Metatron had even been defeated. It hurt Sam to think of Dean, after doing nothing but save the world since he was literally four years old, being trapped as some kind of ghost behind the veil. No one deserved Heaven more than him.

Sam took a deep breath. "Cas. I doubt you can hear me, seeing as how you've not answered the other 100 times I've called, but I need you right now. I..." Sam's voice trailed off, he realized he was close to crying. "Never mind. Just come when you can." With that, he checked to make sure the Impala was actually pulled over correctly, and let himself drift off into uneasy sleep.

 

 

It killed him that he couldn't come. Castiel knew that Sam needed him, but between the ever-fading grace, collapsing Heaven, and general bad place his home was at the moment, he couldn't return to earth. Luckily for him, he'd received a small miracle, it turned out that Gabriel had been hiding in Heaven, and somehow gained reentry shortly before Metatron was captured. The way Heaven was now, the angels didn't care that Gabriel had deserted his post, all they wanted was guidance from an archangel, leader of Heaven and one of the few who had seen God himself. Cas was infinitely glad that Gabe had shouldered some of his responsibility of leading Heaven, it took a lot of weight off of his shoulders. Being a second-in-command to a snarky archangel he could trust was better than leading a Heaven knowing how easily power corrupted him.

Cas was in his favorite Heaven, sitting on the grass and staring up at the eternally blue sky. To be completely honest, he'd left most of running/fixing Heaven to Hanna and Gabriel, he couldn't focus on anything… except the things he was trying to forget. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Metatron's blade draped in… his blood. Tessa's body, knowing what Dean had done…

That was all it took. Dean's name. Suddenly Cas was gasping, struggling to support his weight with his far too weak arms. A pressure started biting behind his eyes, the feeling he recently realized was the desire to cry. Stop it, he thought. If any other angel sees you like this…  
 It took Cas a full fifteen minutes to get himself under control. Luckily, the angels hadn't called for him. Unluckily, Sam had. The words played in his head on repeat: you've not answered… I need you… hear me… come when you can… "Cas!"

At first Cas thought it was Sam's prayer again, but it turned out to be Gabe. Still disheveled from his recent breakdown, he started frantically trying to cover up the outburst, smoothing his coat, wiping his eyes and face, making sure his hair fell flat. But Gabe walked too quickly towards him, and pulls Cas's hands away from his face.  
"Listen side-eyes, I- whoa. Are you okay?" Cas shook his head and looked down at the ground. "What do you need, Gabriel?"

Rather than respond, Gabe decided to sit down next to Cas, which he did with a plop. "Nothing important. I'll have Hanna take care of it." He paused for a moment and attempted to win Castiel's gaze. "This is about the Hardy boys, isn't it." Cas didn't respond. "Look, if you wanna go back to Earth and take care of things, no one'll care. I'll just get Hanna or some angel to help me out until you get back. It's no biggie."

Cas finally looked up at him in disbelief. Gabe, happy he finally earned Cas's gaze, gave him his half-smile wink thing he did so often as the trickster. "No biggie? Gabriel I destroyed Heaven, and you suggest I turn my back on it? I betrayed my home. I helped to throw Lucifer and Michael into the cage. I started civil war. I joined forces with Crowley. I killed Raphael's followers. I put the angel tablet in Metatron's hands. I cast the spell that kicked all the angels out of Heaven. All of this, all of it, is my fault. I can't turn my back on Heaven now. All that would do is prove to the angels that I do care more for humanity than I do angels. I won't let them think Metatron was right about me. Not until the day I die."

Gabe gave him a sideways glance. "You know, that day might not be far off. Even I've heard about the stolen grace, side-eyes. And besides, no offense, but you haven't been much help over here. Just get yourself sorted and come back; you're a liability right now. And don't worry about Metatron. Everyone knows how much of a phony he is now, no one's listening to him behind bars."

Cas shook his head again, determination shining in his eyes. "No, Gabriel. I won't go back to Earth until the gates of Heaven are reopened to the lost souls, and the situation here is under control. Now what do you need?"  
Gabe gave a long sigh. "All work, no play, eh Cassie? Fine. There's something going on downstairs. I'm calling a meeting."


	2. Vampire Trap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gabe sort of turns into an authority here, I'm not trying to write him out of character, I just think that in front of other angels he'd act more archangel-y, and when it's just him and Cas he'd be more Gabe-y. That's common throughout the fanfic. This starts directly after the last chapter.

"Break in on Pine street. One dead: teenage girl, 15. Looks like she’s been bled dry. Back up needed, over." Vamp. Sam shook himself awake, still sitting on the curb. It was well past nightfall now, judging by the clock on his phone it was almost 10 o'clock. Sam grabbed the wheel of the Impala and drove down to the site where multiple police cars were already parked.

"FBI. We were in the area, and wanted to take a look at the crime scene." The police chief looked at the badge, then back at Sam, before handing it back to him and gesturing into the house. "That way, agent. We found her lying in the kitchen."

Sam put his badge away and followed the police chief into the house. "You undercover?" The police chief asked. Sam realized he hadn't changed from his normal clothes to his FBI suit like usual. 

"Uh, yea. Just finished up, next town over." The two entered the kitchen. The window was shattered, a vamp could easily get through. Some plates had gotten broken, and little drops of blood spotted the counters and table. In the center was the girl, lying on the ground. There was a slash on her neck, like a possible knife wound, except there was no blood. Sam pressed his fingers to the wound, like it said over the radio, it didn't even feel wet. "What's the death down as?"

"Murder. Knife wound, right at her neck there. Obviously forced entry, and definite sign of struggle. Nothing else it could be."

Sam looked from the window to the girl, then stood up and faced the police chief. “Since when do murderers drain their vics of all their blood?"

The chief shrugged. "Who knows what loony did this? We're looking for the guy, but there weren't any witnesses.”

“The murder weapon’s from the kitchen?” Sam asked.

“Yea, the knife's at the station, we're running it for DNA."

"Any family or friends? Any enemies, people who'd want to do her in?"

"Not that we're aware. She's emancipated, and apparently a loner in the town. Must not've put up too much of a struggle, poor girl." He paused and looked at the body sadly.

Sam gave the chief his fake FBI card, telling him to alert him if they got any leads on the knife. He got into the Impala and drove back to the motel, looking for possible nests for the vamps. The entire case made him uneasy, normally it would take more for him to identify any monster, and now he was working without Dean, without help. And why would a vamp need a knife, normally they’d just use their teeth. And even if they did use the knife, why would they leave it lying around? It was almost like…

It was almost like they weren’t trying to cover their tracks. Sam put it together easily. Loud and large crime scene to alert the police, knife to distract them and get a hunter there. Easily a vamp, and so the next thing to do would be find a nest. The entire thing was a trap. But the vamps didn’t know Sam was coming, so if it was a trap it would have to be for another hunter. Sam thought about that, another hunter he didn’t know in the area. Now he had to spring the trap before they did, just in case they weren’t prepared.

 

 

Make him proud, make the king proud, kill or else. The sun rose now, making it nearly impossible to keep Shadow from getting caught. But he had to kill or else. Kill or die. Nothing but the blade.

An apartment this time, with enough room for a family. Good, the more the better. No walking this time, too long since the man in the house in nowhere, days without a fix, he needed to kill, it had been too long. Shadow appeared in the big room, a cage… no a crib lodged in the middle. He took a step towards the caged bed… but nothing was inside. He pushed open the door, a larger bed… also empty. No targets to hunt, no power from the blade. Too long… too long without a fix.

Shadow screamed in rage. Rarely the demon spoke, silent but deadly gave him the name Shadow. Another came running, an older woman in bedclothes, saw the demon with eyes of black and screamed in horror… that was the last thing she ever said. 

A wave of ecstasy flowed through Shadow as he lowered the blade on his target again and again. Each time caused less comparable damage, and each time gave him a little less of a buzz. After a while, the feeling was gone completely and Shadow ceased his hacking. He took a moment to look at his work with pride before jumping out of the four story window and into the light of dawn. Calmer now with the results of his kill, he could travel far, far away where more people, more targets lived. 

As long as he’d been a demon, he’d been alone. Some said the solitary treatment made him insane. Others thought it was the occasional visit of the King, his only visitor, who turned him this way. A lot of rumors surrounded Shadow, a warrior from nowhere with an unquenchable desire to kill. No one knew what the King had business with with that demon; thus creating even more rumors.

 

 

Hanna started briefing Cas and Gabe the moment they were within earshot. Apparently she was the one that alerted Gabe about the possible danger in Hell. “There have been attacks all over Earth, much stronger than what we've seen before. So far twelve people have died in a span of a few Earth days, all in the same manner. Normally this wouldn't be our business, but I’ve seen signs that point to the First Blade's usage." She sounded so to the point, without any doubt in her mind about the whole situation, but Cas knew there had to be more to the story.

“The blade can only be used by the bearer of the Mark of Canin, and Dean had it on his arm when…" Cas trailed off. He didn’t want to think about that, even if the entire situation revolved around Dean’s death.

"I know, Castiel. However, the fact remains that the First Blade was used. Perhaps Crowley found a way to get around the Mark?" Her voice carried no sympathy. Sympathy wasn’t something an angel could give. Only instruction, only fact. The fact that Cas even knew about things like sympathy showed just how far off the reservation he’d gone. He didn’t know how to feel about that.

Gabriel spoke, jolting Cas back into reality. "That makes sense. He lost a powerful weapon when Dean smited. He'd want to try and use the blade by any means necessary."

"Could he have possibly brought Dean back to life?" Castiel's heart leaped at that theory, but he knew that was impossible. Still, how could Crowley use the First Blade without the Mark? And how could he get the mark without Dean?

"Normally, yes. But with Heaven closed and the souls trapped resurrection is impossible. He'd have to found a way to brand another with the mark.” Gabe said.

“That is, unless he was able to find a new weapon, one he could use.” Hanna replied, but Cas shook his head.

“There’s nothing that powerful. I know how Crowley works. Second best isn’t good enough; he'd want a Knight of Hell on his side."

"But didn't the last 'Knight of Hell' try to smite him?" Gabe asked.

"Yes,” Cas countered, “but if he created and trained this Knight of Hell, it would be loyal only to him. He'd be able to control it completely. A weapon behind Crowley, with the First Blade-"

"Is formidable, to say the least." Hanna finished for him. "What should we do?"

Gabriel got a sparkle in his eye, left over from his time on Earth. It made Castiel cautious to what Gabe would say next, and rightly so. He smiled and looked directly at Cas. “Castiel will go to Earth and find out what’s going on. If there’s a knight, I can slay it, but you’ll need to capture it for me.”

Before Cas could open his mouth to protest, Hanna nodded "Okay. I'll have his positions temporarily filled.” Here in Heaven, no angel would take his opinion into account when his (now only) superior gave him a direct order. The wouldn’t expect him to want to disobey, the didn’t know what will was, much less free will. As Hanna walked off, Gabe turned to Cas.

"Go on, side-eyes, smite some demons. That’s what you do best, hunting Knights of Hell.” Cas looked down as an unpleasant memory resurfaced, one he knew Gabe didn’t know about. “I’ll make sure Heaven doesn't kill itself while you’re saving the world.” And with that, Gabe snapped his fingers, and Cas was standing next to a crib in an apartment back on Earth. The sooner I find this knight, the sooner I get to go back to Heaven, Cas thought. Time to start looking.


	3. Abigail Lewis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This starts directly after the last chapter.

"Demon! Face your king." Shadow stopped where he was, an overwhelming desire to obey. He kneeled before Crowley, who had graced him with his physical presence. The human blood on his hands and blade shown in the light of the rising sun. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his king's eyes stop on the blood before forcing himself to look away.

"I told you not to get caught, demon. Kill all you want, but your clumsy escapes have caused a mess! And do you know who has to clean it up? Me!" Crowley's hands were in fists, his face enraged. His now dark red eyes bore into Shadow's body, scorching him. “Heaven knows about your little excisions, and now you've got an angel on your ass, demon!" Shadow's stomach clenched at the mention of the savage slaughters he’d hated since birth, but at the same time his head started to pound. He pushed the feeling away, to break form would be to dishonor his king. "Now, I'm fair. I promised you a future and I intend to give you one, despite your mishaps. Meet me on the outskirts of town at midnight, and make sure we're alone. Fairfield," Crowley scoffed. "These kids will go anywhere to get drunk." With that, he left, and Shadow gave into his throbbing head.

Angels. A redhead girl in nothing but a bra and jeans laying in a car. A long-haired man- a gag-reel?- with metal rods sticking out of his head. A man in a trench coat cutting his arm, using his blood to make a symbol on a wall. That same man, talking to a... cat? Shadow grunted and willed with all his might to get rid of the images flashing behind his eyes. Focus on the will of the king, not meaningless images that make no sense. Outskirts of town at midnight. A direct order from his king. That, he could make sense of. That, he could handle.

 

 

After about 12 hours of searching with no luck, a possible victim of the First Blade had popped up on Long Island. Cas was hoping that the crime scene was new enough to have clues as to who, or what, was causing the deaths. He flew to a spot a few feet off from prying eyes, he’d learned the hard way what happened when he ‘materialized’ by an unsuspecting human. He walked the rest of the way, only to be stopped by a cop. “Agent Day, FBI." He held up his badge the way the Winchesters had taught him, and hoped it would be enough. He didn’t want to wait until the cops cleared to start hunting the demon. The last thing a Knight of Hell (or variation of) needed was a head start.

"Agent Green Day?" She gave Cas an odd look that Cas didn't understand. The Winchesters often used famous musicians as their aliases, why would this be any differet? "Were your parents drunk when they named you?"

Cas tilted his head and stares at her blankly. "I don't understand." The cop just laughed and shook her head. "All right, Agent Green Day, what do you wanna know?" Thank dad, it worked.

"I need to see the crime scene." The cop nodded and showed him into the house. As he looked around, he tried to think of a way to get her and her crew away from the evidence; they could easily accidentally wreck something that could point towards what Crowley was plotting next. "There've been a string of murders heading east, all alike in nature. I need to take over from here. Have your men leave, and call if there's any update on the information you already possess. Leave everything where it is.” Cas ordered. The cop nodded and began to round up her troops. She responded as easily as an angel, good that would make things easier.

After a few minutes the cops were gone and Cas got to work. The area was covered in sulfur, obviously a demonic killing. The victims, a teenager and his aunt and uncle, had been stabbed to death in their beds. Not wanting to look at the corpse of a boy, Cas entered the master bedroom where the cops had let the bodies stay, under his orders. The bed was soaked in blood, the air reeked of sulfur. Both victims  weren't just killed, they were cut to pieces. There were multiples wounds on their chests, heads, and even a few on their lower bodies, almost all their remaining flash was covered in blood. It wasn't even recognizable as human. Cas gave an involuntary gag, a human reflex that his fading grace could no longer buffer. This was the First Blade's doing, that was obvious. It reminded his of how Sam had described Abbadon's corpse when she'd been killed by Dean.

His stomach gave a lurch and his eyes closed tight. The way he'd killed by the end was appalling, so unlike the righteous man he'd pulled from perdition so many years ago. The mark had destroyed him, made him kill, gave him false confidence that eventually got him killed...

His mind raced with thoughts. Being in a room with humans whose fates were so similar to Abbadon's (and he guessed Dean's as well) didn't help to get himself under control. He ran out of the bedroom, and down the stairs into the kitchen, thankful that no one was in the house. Despite the little time he had on the case, Heaven would expect it to be within the next 24 hours. And they were right, this had gone on under the radar for weeks, the whole First Blade thing was not only impossible but also out of control. Cas had no choice, he decided it was time to put fate in his own hands, as they say.

 

 

The engine died down as Sam pulled into the dirt driveway that had recently decided that it would be of better use as a lawn. It was midday, after another restless night full of Dean's face the station had called. Another attack, but this time an abduction. A single girl in her 20’s, out of a motel room she’d been staying in for the last few weeks. There was a sign of a much bigger struggle, a silver knife was missing from her kitchen and there was signs of a gun. Using a gun on vamps… that hunter was either inexperienced (which he doubted) or desperate (which he was almost certain). It had to be the hunter the vamps were really after. 

Sam got out of the Impala and looked at the door of the abandoned barn. This was the only possible place in town, and so Sam had headed out there with dead man's blood in a syringe Dean had picked up ages ago from some garage sale or something, along with an axe for decapitating the vamps' heads.

Vile of dead man's blood at the ready Sam silently entered the abandoned barn. Inside he saw the silhouette of two vamps sleeping side by side, no doubt mates, and a third body tied to what looked like the door of a horse stable. The third body was moving, they must’ve kept them alive for some reason. As he stepped closer, he realized he knew the silhouette. It took him a second to place the vic's body, then he realized: 

It was Abigail.  
 Wide eyed, he ran over to her, keeping one eye on the sleeping vamps, and pressed a finger to his lips. She nodded and tilted her head to her jean pocket, where the silver knife she’d stolen from her room was sticking out. He grabbed it and began to cut her free. But after a moment, Abigail whispered "They're awake."

Sam turned around fast enough to be cornered by one of the vamps, a tall female. She bared her teeth at him, and he grabbed his axe, trying to decapitate her, but the axe was knocked from his hands before he could make a blow. It slid to the other side of the room, out of reach. He dived for it, but the vamp blocked his path, smiling and baring her second set of teeth. 

Abigail pulled the last strands of the ropes free, and grabbed another surprise from her back pocket: a gun. She fired at the male vamp's heart, and he fell, stuttering. Sam wondered how it could have that effect, it wasn’t the colt was it? The vamps were obviously confused as well ”Bullets stocked with dead man's blood. Now leave that man alone, or I'll poison your mate, mate." Abigail smiled.

It had the effect she wanted, the female vamp abandoned Sam and tried to wrestle the gun out of Abigail's hands instead. Abigail kicked her back, but fell to the ground, the female vamp standing over her. Sam grabbed the syringe of dead man's blood and slammed it into the vamp's back. She fell next to her mate, her eyes half closed. Sam brought the axe on the two vamps heads at the same time. There was a crack, then dead silence.

Since Abigail was supposed to be dead, Sam brought her back to his motel room to let her get cleaned up and change. After the fact, he gave her a beer and offered her a seat at the table by the small kitchenette. "Still destroying your liver, I see," she said, smiling, after taking a sip.

Sam shrugged. "So, you're a hunter."

"So are you." Sam nodded. “I should’ve realized. Drinking crappy beer, spending way too much time on news sites, being all shady…” The way she said it made Sam roll his eyes. 

"Did you know about those vamps before?"

Abigail flashed another flirty smile. "Yea. I found the nest months ago, but those two SOBs got away. I tracked them here, but they set a trap for me. After that poor girl bit the dust, I went to investigate and hunt them down, they followed me and caught me off guard. They were gonna turn me, after the holocaust I did on their kin they were desperate. They were gonna feed me their blood as soon as they woke up, you got to me just in time.” She took another swig of beer. "And thank God for that."

"We were good back there," Sam said after a few minutes of silence.

Abigail raised her eyebrows. "Yea. Should do it more often."

Sam looked at her, eyebrows furrowed. "What- exactly- are you saying?"

Abigail gave Sam that one-over look she'd given him a few days before at the bar. "I'm saying that this lull ain’t gonna last forever, and that if your brother died in an 'accident' you're gonna need back-up. So what do you say? You've already got my number."

Sam thought about it. He couldn't remember the last time he'd hunted completely alone, and with Bobby and Dean together upstairs, Cas not answering, and an entire country full of demons, he'd need back-up. So, Sam reached across the table and grabbed her phone, and put his number in under the name Sam Winchester. "Sure. Why not?”


	4. When Grief Takes Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This is most likely the most disturbing chapter the story has to offer. Both Cas's and Dean's parts (but mostly Dean's) are really, really dark, so just a fair warning. 
> 
> Also, I have this headcannon that Cas and Anna were really close, like really, really close before she abandoned Heaven (or got kicked out or whatever) and then he felt betrayed, which is why he does what he does in season 4, concerning her. He also feels guilty about handing her to Heaven and thinks about her a lot. Think like Dean=Anna and Sam=Cas relationship-wise. That comes into play a lot later in the story, as well as in this chapter.
> 
> PS- When Sam says "The last person who picked me up like this, it didn’t end well" he's talking about Ruby. I know I should've made it clearer.

"Do we honestly have to listen to this crap? Seriously Sam, this was made about ten thousand years ago. Welcome to the 21st century, dammit." Abigail was whining yet again about the lack of non-classic rock options the two had in the Impala. He himself wasn't a huge fan of the options either, but he'd been listening to some of Dean's favorites as a way to remember his brother. Normally he'd just tell her to shut up and deal with it, but after the fifth rotation of Dean's twenty songs, even he was growing tired of them. "Sam? If you don't answer me, I'm going to assume that's a yes to the radio."

Sam rolled his eyes. He seemed to do that a lot more since he and Abigail started hunting together. Well, not exactly hunting, it had only been a week and the lull hadn't let up yet, but still. In a way, she was exactly what he needed to help him cope with losing Dean and Cas. The angel still hadn't answered his prayers, Sam was starting to worry. "Go ahead, Abigail. Just don't put me to sleep."

Delighted at that, Abigail started fiddling with the radio, eventually coming up with some face-paced song he didn’t recognize. Abigail smiled at the tune lowered it so they could talk over the music. "Where exactly are we going? That bear attack in Idaho?" Sam nodded. It had been the only thing they'd seen all week that could possibly be their kind of thing. Even so, that was doubtful. The strange lull had started to worry him.

"We should be there in another day or so."

"Fine, but pull over. You haven't slept in a while, I'll drive and you rest up. You need to be stronger if the attack is our kind of thing.”

Sam shook his head. Abigail let out a huge, dramatic sigh, and in retaliation Sam stepped harder on the gas petal, gunning the entire. “Sam! Do you want to get us killed!” Sam stopped the car in the middle of the road, feeling so dizzy he started to wonder if he was drunk, despite the fact that he hadn’t so much as smelled alcohol all day. Abigail looked horrified when she realized what she said. “Sorry! Wrong choice of words. But Sam, you have to sleep. When those sons of bitches catch up with us, and believe me they will, I don’t want to see you get hurt.” Sam got up out of the car and slammed the door shut, Abigail calling his name in frustration. She got out of the car too, and grabbed his shoulder when he tried to run away. “What the hell are you going to do? Leave the car in the middle of the road?

“My car! Not yours. Stop acting like my friend, Abigail! You don’t even know me! We’ve been working together for what, 6 weeks?”

“Hellva work we’ve done, we’ve caught nothing in over a month.” Abigail pulled out a flask she’d had in her pocket, unscrewed the cap, and offered it to Sam, leaning against the side of the Impala. Sam accepted the flask and took a long drink, the liquid coursing through his veins like fire and numbing his anger and grief. “I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry about the way I phrased that, I didn’t mean-“

“It’s not about what you meant, it’s about the why you said it. You’re a stranger to me, so stop acting like-“

“Your brother?” Abigail looked at him, not with pity or concern, but with a knowing look, her eyebrows raised, daring him to deny what they both knew to be true. Sam answered only by taking another drink from the flask, so Abigail continued talking. “I know what it’s like to mourn Sam. How do you think I got into this job in the first place?” She shook her head and looked at the road, her foot kicking a loose rock into the dirt beside the road. “There was a ghost haunting at my mother’s workplace. She died right in front of me, I was only 17. And everyone that tried to help me, regardless of whether I knew or not before my mother’s death, I pushed them away until I was all alone with nothing but the need for revenge. I was afraid that they would remind me of my mother, just like you’re afraid of me acting like Dean.” Abigail met Sam’s eyes, the old memories making them flash with a sadness Sam had never seen in her before. “Maybe we’re not blood, or close enough to be considered family or friends or whatever. But I’ve got a fake it till you make it policy, because 6 weeks for a hunter is like a year. You or I could die tomorrow, and I don’t want to be killed, or watch you die, knowing I was holding something back. If we do get close enough to consider each other family, than we’ll just do the same thing as ever, but if we don’t… I don’t want to lose the first person I’ve trusted since I was a teenager with regrets.” She took his hand, and even though it was a completely platonic gesture it still felt vulnerable. “Don’t push me away like I did to my family. Like I did to my brother. Dean wouldn’t want you to be alone.”

Sam didn’t know what to say. “I’m… I’m sorry about your mom. And brother.” He screwed the cap back on the flask and handed it to Abigail, who pocketed it. “And I’m sorry I’ve been giving you such a hard time. You don’t deserve that. You helped me at my darkest moment. The last person who picked me up like this, it didn’t end well. I guess I’m just waiting for you to manipulate me too. But I shouldn’t be, you’re okay, Abby.”

Abigail smiled. “You’ve never called me Abby before.” She smiled and patted the Impala. “Now climb in and sleep until we get to Idaho. You drank too much to be able to drive.”

She laughed and climbed into the car, Sam doing a double take. “You tricked me!” Sam couldn’t help smiling at the sheer genius that took.

Abby turned up the radio, mouthing the words along with the song. “Yea well, ha ha fuck you.” Sam couldn’t help but laugh at the entire situation. He realized he hadn’t really laughed like that in a very long time.

 

 

Shadow arrived at the place Crowley had told him right. After a few minutes, Crowley appeared beside him, making him kneel again. "Ok, get up. You can't train on your knees." Shadow stared at the First Blade in disbelief. The king of Hell? Training him? "Now don't look so astounded, I can't have you making a blood trail like that. Now get up."

Shadow slowly rose from his position and looked up at his king, grinning with delight. Crowley nodded tilted his head towards a telephone pole ten feet beside the two. Tied to it was a fourty-something year old woman, her arms and legs bound by rope, a dark colored rag used as a gag to keep her from yelling. She was half-conscious, multiple bruises on her face but no blood. She looked terrified.

"This lovely lady made a demon deal ten years ago. Poor soul, her husband was halfway out the door cause she couldn't have kids, made a wish and voila, pregnant. Now, normally I'd let the hellhounds get her, but today you're practicing on her. All the killing, none of the excess blood. Should get that pest out of our hair, and keep you from dying. Win win."

Crowley gestured towards the bound woman as if to say, get on with it. Shadow raised the First Blade and plunged it into her chest, her muffled scream just barely meeting his ears. “Keep it still, don’t let the blood touch the ground.” His mind was screaming for him to hack some more, get more power from the blade, but his instinct to do as he was told overpowered that desire. To compensate for that urge, Shadow twisted the blade a bit, being rewarded by another jolt of energy, but nothing escaped Crowley’s eyes. “Keep it still, I said.”

After what felt like hours of pure torture, Crowley said “Now that she’s dead, lay her down. Leave the blade where it is.” Shadow kept one hand grasping the blade, not wanting to be cut off from its power, and used the other to break the ropes before laying her down. None of the blood touched the grass around the woman. “Pull the blade out and use her body as a rag to get rid of the blood. Keep all the evidence off the surroundings.” Shadow did just that, his need for the energy curbed but nowhere near satisfied. Crowley touched her body and she disappeared, most likely to burn her body in Hell.

“Listen demon, you’ve got the hunting part down tremendously, hard to believe you were self-taught. But things are happening, and I can’t have Heaven knowing about this before I’m ready. Meet me here again tomorrow, and I’ll give you a test. Pass, and you’ll be rewarded beyond measure. Fail, and, well, don’t fail.” With that, Crowley disappeared. Shadow looked around, and spotted a neighborhood a few miles away. He could almost taste the power as he bolted towards the windows.

 

 

The demon never saw him coming. Thankfully his fading grace still allowed Cas to see the true forms of all the creatures he came across; he found the possessed man easily, and was able to put him out of commission in no time at all. It burned a bit when Cas knocked him out, as a little more of his power was sucked from his core and into his fingertips before being absorbed in the abomination, but it was for Heaven, and therefore worth it. If Cas could not serve Heaven until his final breath, what did he have to live for?

Once the demon was powerless, Castiel placed him in the center of a hand-made demon trap, much like the one he made for Alistair. Cas put off shaking the demon awake, because despite the need he couldn’t help but think about what Anna had said to him the last time Heaven had taken this route: “The father you love, you think he wants this? You think he’d ask this of you? You think this is righteous?” His sister’s words had been the first thing to Inspire will and emotion in him. And now rather than keeping his emotions out of his actions, they were ruling them. He’d come full circle in a way Anna would’ve never imagined. He doubted again, but this time he doubted himself.

Before he’d come to any conclusion, the demon started to stir. He banished Anna’s ghost from his mind, he had no choice in this matter. It was only an abomination. But then again, hadn’t Anna just been that for years? Stop it, he commanded himself. You’re getting nowhere. Cas turned to waking demon and eyed it. “You’re going to tell me everything I ask, or else.”

The demon did the worst thing it could. It laughed. Cas threw holy water into its open mouth, and it started to choke on its own blood. It stopped laughing. “Or else,” Cas repeated.

The demon held Cas’s stare, challenging him to ask. Cas walked up to the demon, bound and trapped in the body of that man from the Devil’s Trap. Cas kept his face cold and detached, not wanting to act like he found it hard to torture the demon but not wanting the demon to think he found a sick joy in the pain. “First question: who’s controlling the First Blade?” The demon laughed again, but that laugh turned into a scream once Cas employed some angelic methods.

After a minute Cas removed his hand from the demon’s forehead, and it began to recover panting. “I’m… not… telling… you… anything,” it mustered, forcing Cas to do it again. Anna’s ghost returned to him again through the screams. “Torturing? That’s God’s work?” It wasn’t God’s work anymore, but it was Heaven’s, similar enough to make Cas doubt even himself. His head kept on spinning with one question: why is this suddenly an option?

“A Knight of Hell… Crowley… he found one… he’s training him…,” the demon was panting even harder, its head falling to its chest like it was half-dead. Cas picked up the head so the demon was forced to look in his eyes.

“Where’s Crowley training him?”

“I don’t know.” Cas pressed his hand to the demon’s forehead again. “East! Somewhere east! Please!”

“Why?”

“He wants to make the demon a warrior like Canin. That’s all we’ve been told.” The demon obviously wasn’t lying, so Cas dropped his head and walked away. So Hell was planning something, just like Gabe thought. Cas debated going after the knight or reporting in to Heaven. Better to have the entire story first, Cas thought. Before I deliver the knight to Gabriel I’ll interrogate him too. 

Interrogate, Cas thought. More torture. Anna’s voice rang in his head one more time. “You think this is righteous?”


	5. Where it All Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter begins a month or so after the last, in that time Sam and Abigail have been looking for more hunts, demon!Dean's been training, and Cas has been chasing demon!Dean. Cas and Dean's sections run parallel to each other in this chapter, in case of any confusion. 
> 
> Also a fair warning: I'm going on vacation and don't feel like spending most of it typing more chapters, so this is my last chapter for about 3 weeks. Think of it as a mid-season finalie...

Sam sat at the table near the small kitchenette of the motel room he and Abigail were staying at, his laptop open as usual, a beer bottle within arm’s reach. Even though Abby was remaining, well not optimistic but sure that it was some kind of luck that the monsters hadn’t been knocking, Sam had started to look for answers as to why those SOBs had just stopped. No shape shifters, no vamps, not even witches or satanists causing trouble had shown their faces in weeks, maybe even months, and Sam had no idea why.

The lack of ghosts were the easiest to figure out. With Heaven’s veil still shut tight (he assumed the angels were working on that, but with Cas M.I.A. Sam had no idea) people didn’t really die. Sure, the were killed, but like Kevin they easily came back. No reapers working properly meant that no one could be a vengeful spirit. That was easy, and almost expected, the more Sam thought about it.

The demons and witches, both creatures of Hell, probably were caught up in the post-Abbadon struggle. The power of witches came from Hell itself, and if Crowley thought he needed the power to keep his kingdom under control, Sam could easily see him cutting off Earth. Sure it was speculation, but it made sense, and Sam had no desire to summon the King of Hell and outright ask him. Even when he had when Dean died, Crowley hadn’t shown up, making him think that any other attempt would be pointless.

It was the monsters that Sam couldn’t figure out. They were connected with the Alphas and Purgatory, not Heaven or Hell. For the most part, he and Dean had sidelined them while dealing with the fallen angels and Abbadon and all that. He couldn’t even remember the last real monster hunt he and Dean had went on before Dean’s death, which made Sam think that the dry spell had happened before all that turmoil. If it had happened before, that meant it wasn’t connected to Abbadon or Metatron or Crowley or any of them, which made Sam even more confused. Regardless, Abigail had been tracking those vamps for a while, which meant that she didn’t know anything, and all of Sam’s hunter friends were dead, with the possible exception of Crissy, but Sam didn’t have her number.

Sam was on a Bible site, looking for possible explanations for the monster dissaperances there when Abigail returned to the motel. She tossed a burger his way which he catched without looking up from the screen. “Nice,” she said, impressed. “You gonna try out for catcher in little league?”

“Shut up,” Sam responded, earning a chuckle from Abigail’s direction. He heard her footsteps cross the room and come up behind him. Again, he didn’t look up.

“I didn’t know you were religious,” she said.

“I’m looking for answers on the monster situation, Abby. Religious writings have helped me in the past.”

She sighed and unwrapped her burger, sitting at the table next to him. “Still on that? Well, I don’t see how Adam and Eve are going to give us divine intervention this time.” Abigail looked at her food, and got up to get a fork and knife from the kitchenette. Sam, on the other hand, thought of something, but lost it in the same instance.

“Say that again,” he murmured to himself, trying with all his might to remember.

“Divine intervention? Adam and Eve? Religious?” She was still more occupied with her food, cutting her burger into pieces and eating it like that for… some reason. Sam stared at the blank words on his screen, trying to think. God. Bible. Monsters. Adam and-

Eve. “That’s it!” Sam exclaimed gleefully, barely able to contain his excitement over a breakthrough for the first time in months. He laughed out loud, almost bursting out of his chair. “Abigail Lewis, you are beautiful”

Abigail was still too absorbed in weird eating practices to notice. “Yea well, I’m still ace so don’t try anything,” she said absent-mindedly. She looked up at him, and did a double take. “What did I-“

“Eve. The mother of all. Purgatory. That’s it!” Sam was smiling so hard his cheeks hurt, but he didn’t care. He hadn’t been this happy since before Dean’s death, since before Cas’s dissaperance. It was the first time he felt like everything was really coming together since, to be honest, since Jess.

Abigail was still regarding him like he was an oompa loompa. “What?” she asked, obviously confused. It took Sam a whole 5 minutes to calm down from his euphoria.

“Eve. My brother killed her a few years back, she was the creator of all the monsters. Her home was Purgatory, all the monsters are connected there, it’s like Hell for demons. If something was to go down in Purgatory, or if a hunter was to close the gates of Purgatory-“

“It would explain all the weird shit that’s been going on, yea?” She cracked a smile. “Sam that’s brilliant. We just need to check it out!” 

Sam smiled back at her. “And I know just how to get into Purgatory.” 

 

 

“You’re late.” Crowley regarded Shadow with a look that sent chills down his spine. He nodded and looked down out of respect for his king. The training was going exceptionally well, mostly thanks to his teaching, but even Shadow knew he had a knack for this kind of thing. He suspected his inner Knight of Hell, as Crowley called him, played a part in that. He also knew that Crowley was pleased with his progress, which excited Shadow. That future Crowley had long since promised him seemed closer than ever.

“All right, demon. This is your ultimate test, if you pass, you’re training’s complete and I’ll have a job for you back in Hell. In that house is a family of three. The parents are both hunters. I want you to slay all three of them, starting with their child. Get in, get out, and if either of the hunters catch you, you’re dead meat. So my advice is, kill them before they realize what’s happening.” 

Shadow nodded and tightened his grip on the First Blade. He advanced silently towards the house, keeping in the shadows. Crowley’s gaze was on his back, then suddenly gone as the king disappeared to a safer location, no doubt still watching his progress. The first challenge would be finding a way inside the house without alerting either of the hunters that he was there.

The doors were locked, as were the windows. Using a windowsill as a ledge, Shaodow climbed onto the lower area of the roof, on the same level as the second floors. Besides a tiny scraping sound even he could barely hear, he made no noise. Once he was stable on the roof, Shadow began looking in the windows. The parents and child were all sleeping soundly in their beds. Shadow tried the window outside the child’s bedroom. Locked. He debated just breaking the glass, but with the parents so close they’d hear it easily.

“Time’s ticking,” Crowley’s voice whispered in his ear. Shadow thought harder, his entire future (not to mention the ecstasy of a decent kill, which was getting rarer by the day) rode on this kill. Shadow tried all the windows, all locked. He looked up, there was a circular attic window on the third floor, out of reach but accessible. He climbed up the roof to the window, and used the blade to make a crack in the glass as quietly as he could. Slowly but surely he cleared the glass from the window, and squeezed inside the attic.

It was the artillery room. Besides one close call, Shadow was able to get out of the attic without making any noise, and head down to the child’s room. The door was ajar, so he quietly opened it, advancing on his target. Just like the way he was trained, he killed quickly and disposed of the body in a matter seconds, not one drop of blood hit the pillow.

Once that kill was done, Shadow advanced into the parents room. That’s where the mishaps started.

 

 

It took Cas far too long to track the Knight of Hell down. He was lucky enough to be only one or two steps behind the knight for the most part, the new way of killing he’d picked up made it harder for Cas to follow the trail. Instead of it being trademarkingly brutal, it looked more like a kidnapping than anything else. The demon knew he was onto it, but couldn’t stop killing. It must be like an addiction, the way Dean’s was. Cas still shuttered when Dean’s name crossed his mind, but it had been long enough for it not to cause him a mental breakdown, which he supposed was good.

Based on the victims and different styles of killing Cas had observed in the chase, he figured the knight was either in training or training another demon. He hoped for the first option, if a Knight of Hell was training the armies of Hell… that would mean Crowley intended for Hell to go to war, which would be far from good. Either way, hopefully Cas could stop the knight before all Hell broke loose, literally.

After a few more clues he’d picked up, and a few more interrogation sessions with new demons, Cas found himself close in on Crowley himself, with another demon he couldn’t quite make out. He supposed that was the knight itself. 

“The parents are both hunters. I want you to slay all three of them, starting with their child. Get in, get out, and if either of the hunters catch you, you’re dead meat. So my advice is, kill them before they realize what’s happening.” Kill hunters? Cas shuttered at the thought, another human reaction that offset him. Think about that later, Cas thought. He had a golden opportunity, to isolate knight with the help of actual hunters. He flew into the house’s kitchen just as the knight entered the house via a window on the top floor. What’s the goal, thought Cas.

After looking around a bit, he saw the point. Dozens of salt containers stocked the pantry, and on a counter sat a jug of holy water. These people were hunters. Cas heard a thump, he realized it was the demon making a kill. He ran up to the second floor of the house, and saw the corpse a moment before it disappeared. I’m too late, Cas thought sadly. The door to another bedroom opened, and Cas turned around suddenly. “Hey, asshat!”

The call started to wake the parents, and made the demon turn around. Cas drew his Angel Blade, ready for a fight, but once the figure finally came into the light Cas stopped. Everything was the same as he remembered, besides those cold, black eyes to match the cold, black soul of the demon. It was one of the few times Cas wished he couldn’t see the true forms of demons, the horrible face shining just under the other. He felt himself go into shock, his breath quickened and heart raced and body trembled, the tiny grace buffering almost nothing. He wanted to cry but nothing would come, nothing could come, all he could do was stare at the face that had so often greeting him with warmth and instead regarded him in that cold, murder-lust stare. “Dean?” he gasped out, just before the demon charged at him, ready to kill.


	6. Shadow Reborn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I'm back! Sorry for the late update, first vacation then irl stuff happened, but it's back!
> 
> Shadow's part is in a different style of writing then normal, specifically because I wanted it to be a bit more surreal and calming. Enjoy!

It felt like one of those moments. What do you call them? Out of body experiences. Time froze seconds before action, and Shadow suddenly rose above himself, and for the first time in months he could see without the world being tainted black or red. His mind quieted from that constant desire to kill with the blade, and all at once, it was quiet.

Looking down, the demon could see everything. A dark haired man with unnaturally blue eyes pinned against a wall, the flaps of his trench coat engulfing his attacker. His left hand held the other man back, while his right held a sliver sword, glowing despite how dark the surroundings were. His eyes were clouded and full of a pain Shadow couldn’t possibly understand, his mouth was open, shouting a cry that Shadow could not hear, his body projecting a protective warmth Shadow could not know.

Then there was the other man, the one with lighter hair and black eyes. His clothes were ragged and bloody, his hands and face specked with dirt and blood. His jaw war pressed together, almost like he was barring his teeth, his entire mind caught in a mixture of frustration, rage, and a need for blood. In his hands was a sword made of bone, it must’ve been white at some point, but it was covered under layers and layers of blood. One hand clenching to it also had dried blood where the skin met the blade. It was clear the other man hadn’t let go of the bone for a very long time.

The rest of the room was empty, no blood or people screaming lined the walls or floors. But the tension and violence in the room filled it up so full that Shadow doubted any other person could even gain entry, much less stay to watch. He stared at the two locked in combat, he knew those people… somehow.

“Castiel,” the wind seemed to whisper into his ear. “And Dean Winchester.” Shadow stared at the two, instantly pairing up the names with faces. The angel and human. A famous companionship that could defy even Hell and win. Slowly it came pouring back to him. Sam. Bobby. Mary and John. The apocalypse and demon hunting and civil wars and Crowley. Lucifer’s vow and Michael’s corruption and Gabriel’s death. God and Lisa and Ben and Anna and Gareth and Kevin and Chuck and Becky. The Impala, Baby. Lawernce, Kansas and all the crappy motels. Puragatory and Heaven and Hell. 

“Dean, stop!” The violence started suddenly as Shadow was sucked into his body once more. Words no longer came hard to him as he smiled and blinked, his eyes turning from black to candy apple green.

“Oh Cassie, Dean Winchester has left the building.”

 

 

For the first time in his life, Cas understood why humans waged war. The moment that thing answered him in Dean’s voice a terrible rage came over him and he couldn’t think, breathe, or feel. The demon slammed the First Blade to Cas, who deflected it with his sword. The last thing he wanted was to hurt Dean, but the demon wouldn’t rest until he was dead.

Cas knocked the demon over and backed away, chanting as he went “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas-“ The demon grunted Dean’s grunt, which made him pause out of grief. The demon took his weakness to its own advantage, and smiled again.

“You don’t want to do that, buddy. I’m not possessing Dean, I am Dean.” It was all Cas could do not to fall over. Dean… that terrible black soul and taunting words couldn’t be his best friend. 

“You’re lying,” Cas grunted. He’d sunk into the wall, unable to stand so Dean advanced on him. No, the demon advanced on him. He held up his blade to block the blow. He had to get out, before he was killed.

The demon put on an air like he was telling a story. “Nope. You see, I remember it all now, the life of Dean Winchester and Co. You were right, the blade was an addiction, but now it’s just a… lifestyle. King brought me back and the rest, as they say, is history.” He laughed darkly and made Cas shudder. “I remember dying too, kinda sappy looking back, but what’s done is done. It was weird, seeing my own blood on a blade. And I did die, Cas, I remember that most of all. After everything it was almost a waste. And now here you are, trying to avenge me. Well I’m here, I’m me, and I’ll tell you: I don’t want to be avenged. In fact, I think what I want most of all is your head on a platter.”

He couldn’t hurt Dean, but he had no choice. The fight went in a blur, so fast and furious Cas couldn’t even remember it was him. He got the upper hand, then the demon did, then he did again. “Dean, listen to me. I know you’re in there!” He tried to make one last desperate attempt to keep the demon away. He shouldn’t have.

“I’m not Dean anymore. My name is Shadow.” Demon Dean slammed the blade into the air where Cas’s chest had been moments before. Back in Heaven, Cas was confronted authority.

“Side-eyes, good news I hope?” Gabriel’s banter was the last thing Cas wanted to deal with at the moment. When Gabe finally realized the state Cas was in, he simply closed his mouth and stared blankly at his brother.

“I need you to bless this mission. I need you to let me off of Heaven’s rope. I need you to let me do what I need by any means necessary, no questions asked. I’ll have the demon, I swear to dad.”

There was a silence, followed by a breath. “Ok.”

 

Abigail watched Sam complete the spell’s ingredients and the bowl to explode in orange smoke. She gave him the paper and he said a few words in Latin, summoning a rogue reaper. “Come and get me,” he muttered, hoping that despite the closing of Heaven and whatever the hell was going on with Purgatory wouldn’t interfere with the spell.

After waiting for nearly an hour, Abigail said in a monotone “Maybe we did it wrong.”

“You think?” Sam hit the bowl of ingredients over in anger, the bowl breaking and spilling the sand-like mixture on the floor of the motel. He made his hands in fists and stared at the pile by his feet. “I was sure that would work.”

“It did,” came a voice behind him. Sam and Abigail both turned and saw a man in a suit with reddish blond hair and corpse-pail skin. “Now what can I help you with?”

Sam was so shocked he couldn’t get his voice to work, so Abigail stepped in. “We need to get into Purgatory. Two tickets in, two tickets out. That a problem?”

The reaper smiled. “I can’t. Unfortunately the angels were playing with Heaven and broke it. I’m locked.”

Abigail furrowed her eyebrows. “But reapers aren’t angels. Why should Heaven matter at all?”

The reaper let out a chuckle. “You think that Earth is the only world with more than one species? Reapers aren’t angels, but we’re born there. We get our power to bring souls to Heaven from there. While Heaven’s still locked, no one goes between worlds. Period.”

Abigail thought for a moment. “Why don’t Sam and I unlock Heaven?” The reaper snorted in disbelief. “No, I’m serious. Sam has an angel friend. We get him to help us, unlock heaven, and you take me and him to Purgatory. That’s your payment too. We give you the job back.” 

The reaper nodded and disappeared without another word. Sam turned to Abigail furiously. “You know I can’t contact Cas since his imprisonment! Why would you tell the reaper that?”

“What do you want from me? It’s a plan! Just try contacting him!”

“I can’t!”

“Well figure it out then!”

Sam locked his jaw in anger, then closed his eyes. “Oh Cas, angel of dicks, come here now or so help me god I will kill you with a sledgehammer.” Abigail laughed but Sam didn’t care, to say he was pissed off for getting the silent treatment yet again was an understatement.

“Sam. We need to talk.” Cas appeared in front of him, looking much less put-together than he had in a while.

“Cas?” Sam said, at first it was out of surprise, but then out of worry once the angel collapsed on the floor, coughing up blood.


End file.
